Fine Lines
by pozarpel
Summary: As a Fanalis, and perhaps, even as a former slave, the realm of education was always oceans out of reach.


The arched hallways stretched on and on. The Sindrian palace was so big that it was easy to find herself wandering for too long. For the same reason, it was difficult to go from place to place without hindrance, and most of all, it was difficult to find her friends. When they weren't eating like pigs in the dining hall.

But they've mostly stopped doing that. Rather, they've all settled into a kind of peaceful every-day, two parts training and two parts languid hours passed without routine under that perfect, auspicious sun.

She trains each morning with Masrur, and it is a quiet and peculiar joy for both of them, Morgiana thinks. Today especially: she finally managed to best his stalwart defenses, if only for an instant, and thwack her foot against his cheek. It was a very satisfying instant. But within two beats of her wild heart, he'd gripped her ankle and far-flung her into a pile of leaves (as gently as possible, really.) The point there was clear—even if she could land a hit by sheer insistent speed, she also had to watch herself and draw back just as quickly. But when she shot up again, dry leaves sloughing off, fists at the ready, Masrur only patted her head. And that's when she realized they'd been going at it for four hours straight.

He sent her along soon after, and the hum of contentment remained for having moved so much—she could feel new strength coursing through her, in the stretch of her tendons and the satisfying ache of her limbs. Morgiana was stone cold immune to fatigue. She washed up, changed into new garb, and set to wandering for a while, until it became apparent to her that she was really looking for Alibaba and Aladdin. The grounds where Alibaba trained were empty, though, as were the greens where Aladdin studied magic.

That left her walking for a stint. She had nowhere else to go, really, no interests that came straight to mind. She thought she was content to walk, too, but when Morgiana saw Ja'far and Sharrkan walking (bickering) she hastened in their direction, stopping in front of them—it took a moment to summon the words, and in that moment, Ja'far smiled and spoke, nodding a hello. "Are you looking for Aladdin and Alibaba?"

She nodded back, hopeful.

"Well," Ja'far explained without really explaining, "they found the library."

"His sword style's passable," Sharrkan added, "but it turns out Alibaba is a big nerd, almost as bad as the witch." He considered this a moment, then furrowed his brow at Ja'far. "If I have to pry that kid out of the library hall with force for his lessons, we're gonna have a problem."

"Not everyone can eat and breathe swordplay."

"Not everyone can eat and breathe paperwork."

"I agree entirely. But this is a country of excess, I suppose."

"Excess drinking and sex, no doubt—"

Ja'far's attention seemed to snap back to Morgiana like an elastic band, then, shooshing Sharrkan for her benefit, apparently. Soundless and neutral, she waited for one of them to continue, leveling a polite gaze at Ja'far as he finished waggling an inelegant hand in Sharrkan's face.

"…So, where's the library?" She prompted, dull, tone low—she rubbed at her arm, watching Ja'far raise a finger towards the residential parts of the palace.

"It's technically Sinbad's. But we all use it, and you're free to, too, Morgiana." He settled a hand on her shoulder, all care and encouragement, and Morgiana took a moment to marvel at the gentleness of all the most fearsome Eight Generals. Then she nodded.

"Yes. Thank you."

The library. Hm.

As was the case with all its faculties and extravagances, Sindria housed a library grandiose beyond Morgiana's every expectation. Just as he'd accrued dungeon treasures and consolidated political power in an unparalleled amount of time, Sinbad had also stocked up on books by the tons. Tomes and scrolls and volumes of all sizes—worn covers, faded colors—lined shelves of spectacle that towered over her. The bookshelves wound around the massive hall, and similarly filled the second story overlooking the first. The railings were the same rich polished wood—the library smelled of trees, in the most unfamiliar way.

Morgiana had never been in a library before.

Her steps were halting like they never were. She felt more at home in a jungle than within the walls of academia, that was for sure. There were sophisticated desks covered with toppling stacks of books or precariously placed oil lamps. Morgiana reached out to right a lamp tottering on the cluttered surface edge, and raised her eyes to glance around. The room was big and full, but very quiet. She supposed that's how they were supposed to be, and swerved on her heels to leave, having gotten an eyeful. Maybe Alibaba and Aladdin were—

"Hey, someone's here—"

"Mor? Ah, Mor!"  
Morgiana felt herself smiling for no discernible reason other than the swell of their voices filling up the whole library. And she didn't stop, even as Alibaba and Aladdin came scuttling over with bundles of books and scrolls in their arms.

"Mor, Mor, look what we found—" Aladdin was saying, sorting through the stack in his arms, knee up to balance them- they clattered to the floor anyway, and Mor bent to pick them up, squinting at the covers. Alibaba was the one who picked out a certain book first, bound in leather with the imprints of beasts' likenesses across the cover. He dropped the rest of the books over the counter in his haste, and held the leather-bound tome out to her like a precious treasure. She blinked at it, not comprehending.

"We found stories," Aladdin said, "about Cathargo, see?" He jerked a finger at the book in Alibaba's hands, then sorted through the scrolls to find the others.

Morgiana opened her mouth. Closed it.

"Oh."

"There's a history, um, some Fanalis folktales—"

"The pictures are so cute. The Fanalis had some really pretty ladies—"

"Really scary ladies. Just like you, Mor!" Alibaba cheered, patting her shoulder with that casual familiarity. He pushed the leatherbound book into her arms, and Aladdin placed another on top of it, and Alibaba topped it with scrolls until she had a small stack of all the Fanalis-related material settled in her arms and a look of bewilderment wavering on her face. Her throat felt dry. They peered at her expectantly.

She was happy to be thought of. And she was happy with the prospect of getting nearer and nearer to home in this way. But she wasn't proud about managing a hit on Masrur anymore, and the distance between her and her friends had resurged in full swing. She held the books as if they were weights.

As a Fanalis, and perhaps, even as a former slave, the realm of education was always oceans out of reach.

They were still looking at her. Her face felt hot with quiet shame, but she tried not to convey it in her expression.

"I can't read," she murmured, straight to the point but treading soft and slow with her words, and held the stack out to Alibaba. She inclined her head in apology. Scholarship was outside of her use. There had never been a need, in her position, to learn, and—and she doubted her ability to. Her capabilities were limited to her illimitable strength and instinct. She thought she was more than content with that, but now, faced with the grandness of a world she'd never have access to, and worse, another striking disparity between her and everyone else…

She tried not to tremble. She'd never be educated, never be like Alibaba and Aladdin. Was there even a need to? Her master had always called her a watchdog, as if it was proper, and—

Alibaba looked as if he'd really done something wrong. Yes, it was an incongruous scene, handing books to a Fanalis girl in the greatest library on the western seaboard like that, but she looked up and was about to tell him not to feel bad, it wasn't his fault, how could he have known she wasn't as educated as he was? She wanted to thank them for the kind thought, regardless of its futility.

But Alibaba startled her again, fixed both hands on her shoulders, gazing into her eyes in that intense, warm way—Aladdin's eyes followed him, and he wore that knowing smile, and Morgiana stood stock still as Alibaba told her, a former slave, a brute of a girl, that he was going to teach her how to read.

"It's easy, Mor," he encouraged her, "You'll get it in no time."

"Yeah, you're really smart, Morgiana!" Aladdin added, tugging at the hem of her dress. She smiled numbly, and wished they hadn't said any of that. The fear remained that even if he taught her, she wouldn't grasp it. She'd sit there, dumb and deaf to all the things those mysterious books had to offer, and all the things Alibaba had to teach, and they would know the secret extent of her stupidity. She wanted to refuse, but couldn't find the words or the force.

"Really?" is what she said, instead.

"Yes! We can get started right away. You'll really love it," Alibaba insisted. He took the books away from her, dropped them on the desk with a satisfied thud—Morgianna was beginning to see the source of the library's disorder—and he took her hand and he led her behind the bookshelves in a hurry, deeper into the library. She gripped his hand a little tightly, unsure of what to do with all the excess energy she suddenly felt. His hand was warm, and she glimpsed his smiling face, as if he really was happy to teach her, as if it was no burden at all. She tried to ignore the warmth at the core inside her chest.

The area where Aladdin and Alibaba had bummed out the whole morning was a scatter of throw pillows, books and blankets. Morgiana stood at the head of the spot. It was so out of place among what seemed like a hideaway of solemn sophistication. Alibaba led her onto the blankets, settling with a pillow under his arms, and instructed Aladdin to go get paper, a quill and an inkwell. Morgiana's first thought was that they'd spill and she'd have to clean it up, but she tried instead to concentrate on learning. She did want to learn, if it was possible.  
So she was determined to be the absolute best student possible.  
He caught her peering at one of the books strewn carelessly across the blankets. "Aladdin and I liked the adventure stories," he said, picking it up. "Most of them are really cool, and non-fiction—"

"Non…fiction?"

"It means a true story. Aladdin seems to have read all the other books, it's kind of weird-"  
Just then, Aladdin returned with all the requested supplies and the Fanalis books, beaming as he settled down between his two friends. Alibaba reached for the paper and the quill straight away, scooting close to Morgiana, flopped on his stomach. She did likewise, watching his neat scrawl appear across the paper.

"They taught me when I first went to the palace," he explained, not pausing in his task. "Until then, I didn't really have a clue. But reading was the best part of staying at the palace, for me."

She nodded slowly, almost in a daze, as Alibaba stilled the quill at the last character of their alphabet. "Does any of this look familiar to you, Morgiana?"

"A," she stated, pointing at the first letter, then the next few. "M. … C? S. The others are familiar, too."

"Right. Alright, pay attention, Morgiana," he said in faux-seriousness, an imitation of his old masters, not at all stern and enjoying the stiff attentions of his pupil. He underlined the letters with his index finger as he went over them, steady and sensitive to her understanding. "To begin, A for Alibaba, Aladdin, Amon. B for Balbadd, battle, brain, C for cat, crop, carpet, D for dungeon, dragon—"

"D for djinn!" Aladdin suggested from his spot to the side, holding a storybook in his hands.

That gave Morgiana pause. "Silent letters come later," Alibaba said. And they did.

They holed up in the Sindrian library until Ja'far found them asleep there the next morning.


End file.
